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I was in Game Stop, the video game store next to the pharmacy where Omaha had gone to wrestle with the devils of irritation and insurance. They have a bin of used games and occasionally I find a good score on something for three bucks or so.

As I was preparing to leave, I heard the guy behind the counter say, "Are you sure you want to buy this for him?" I looked up and there, at the counter, was a father and son. The boy was probably a big ten or average eleven. He had that soft look often worn by children who don't go outside, pudgy and pale. He wore a black T-shirt with a local church logo on it. The salesguy said, "It's ESRB rated Mature." He turned the box to show the dad, while reading from the back. "For intense and realistic violence, drug references, blood, and adult language."

Good for him. It's good to see salespeople doing their jobs. The father looked down at the boy and said, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yeah," the kid said, his voice high-pitched and rising.

"Okay," the father said. He turned back to the salesguy and said, "Yeah."

Well, at least the salesguy had done his job.
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Elf Sternberg

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